Duty(19)

“Aaron . . .” I say, stopping when I realize I'm about to cry. “I'm sorry, okay? That first day, when you came up behind me, I'll be honest. I should have told you. I knew you were a cadet from the minute you stopped your bike, even before you told me.”

“Why didn't you?” Aaron asks, his eyes hurt. “Why'd you let me keep thinking that you were some daughter or civilian employee? What were you trying to do, play me?”

“No! I . . . because you treated me with respect and . . . because I thought you were cute, okay?” I admit, sighing. “My God, Aaron, do you know how much it sucks to be a PFC stationed at West Point?”

“Probably better than being a plebe or a yuk,” Aaron says, huffing. “You're at least making enough money that you aren't sitting on all of twelve bucks left after one date with a beautiful woman.”

“I don't date women,” I respond, and at least Aaron gives me a little bit of a smile. I take a deep breath and give him a smile. “I'm glad I can at least get a smile from you.”

“I notice you didn't say anything about me calling you beautiful,” Aaron says, turning and walking again.

“Let me keep my ego building when I can get it,” I tell him, smiling and falling into step next to him. “It's nicer to be called beautiful instead of what some of your fellow cadets have called me.”

“We can be harassing *s sometimes,” Aaron admits. “I've noticed that a lot more since we, well, you know.”

“I do know. And can I say something about that?”

Aaron stops and turns back to me, nodding. “Go ahead.”

“The only regret I have about that is that I didn't tell you beforehand. But I don't have a single regret about what we did. Except next time, I'd like it to be someplace indoors and where I don't have to ride ten miles on a bike afterward. I want a place where I can be with my boyfriend, not my riding buddy. And not cadet and PFC, either.”

There, I said it. I laid it all out. Well, almost everything. Aaron looks at me, his hazel eyes nearly glowing in the sunset light, then grins flirtatiously. “Next time, huh?”

I stop and gape at him, then laugh. “I like you, Aaron. Honestly, I like you a lot. And yeah, it sucks that I can't tell my co-workers about my boyfriend. That is . . . if you still want to be.”

Aaron bites his lip, thinking. “Lindsey, you realize what you're asking me to do? The rules are clear. We’re not allowed to see one another.”

“And we're not supposed to cross the Gray Line,” I reply, reaching out and taking his hand. He lets me, and when I squeeze his fingers, he gives me a squeeze back. “Aaron, when I'm with you, I don't think of you as a cadet, and you have never once made me feel like a PFC. I feel like a girl, a woman. More than once, I’ve had to leave my room because I couldn't help but keep saying your name. I can’t get you off my mind. Hell, the whole time we were in New York, I felt the same way. I . . . I know that it's a risk. I know that it's stupid, that there's no future in it. But I still don't want to stop.”

Aaron smiles and nods, stepping off the road and pulling me a few feet into the woods. He pulls me close and wraps his arms around me, and I feel safe, joy filling my heart and warming me deep in my chest. “I don't want to stop either. It's dangerous, it's stupid, and I could end up doing so many hours that I'm not getting back to New York until I'm a f*cking firstie, but you're worth it.”

I stand on my tiptoes, and we kiss, soft and tender. His lips quest against mine and we let it deepen, our tongues tasting each other until my nipples are tight in my shirt. I didn't put a bra on, trusting in my sweatshirt, and I can feel Aaron harden in his jogging suit pants. I step back with real regret, smiling. “So you forgive me?”

“How could I not?” Aaron chuckles, cupping my face. “As long as you don’t mind my being broke as hell.”

“I don't like you for your money.” I laugh, kissing him again. “And I don't care about your rank, now or in the future. I like spending time with you. And I want to do it more often.”

Aaron hums and pulls me even closer. “That's going to mean a lot of bike rides or sneaking around post.”

“I don't mind,” I reply, taking his hand again and leading him back to the road. The sun's nearly all the way down now, and we're pretty much walking only in the moonlight. “I think we might need to set some ground rules though.”

Aaron nods, and we reach the loop that takes us toward the pond in the distance. “We do. I'd like to make one rule clear no matter what though.”

“What's that?” I ask, and Aaron smiles, looking down at me.

“If we get caught, I take the slam. Anything short of a general letter of reprimand gets shredded when I leave this place. But you know I can't lie about it, either. If someone asks me directly, I’ve gotta say we're seeing each other.”

“I don't want you to lie,” I reassure him. “Never risk your future or your position in the Army for me. You know, until I met you, I thought Cadets were a bunch of conceited *s?”

“We mostly are.” Aaron laughs. “By the way, where do you work anyway?”

“Post S-1 shop, schools desk,” I tell him. “So I'm AG Corps. There’s no way you’ll ever be my direct officer. West Point doesn't send too many officers to the AG. But I guess that doesn’t matter to them.”